“Are you speaking of Jesus Christ?” said a preacher.
“I am,” said I. “The agitator you nailed to a cross some centuries ago. I did not know that his name was known in the region of steel!”
They all said nothing and left.
I went in a house in Monessen where I heard a woman sobbing. “They have taken my man away and I do not know where they have taken him!” Two little sobbing children clung to her gingham apron. Her tears fell on their little heads.
“I will find out for you. Tell me what happened.”
“Yesterday two men come. They open door; not knock. They come bust in. They say ‘You husband go back to Russia. He big Bolshevik!’ I say, ‘Who you?’ They say, ‘We big government United States. Big detect!’
“They open everything. They open trunks. They throw everything on floor. They take everything from old country. They say my husband never came back. They say my husband go Russia. Perhaps first they hang him up, they say.”
“They will not hang him. Is your husband Bolshevik?”
“No. He what you call Hunkie in America. He got friend. Friend very good. Friend come see him many times. Play cards. Talk ’bout damn boss. Talk ’bout damn job. Talk just ’bout all damn things. This friend say, ‘You like better Russia? Work people now got country.’
“My husband say, ‘Sure I like Russia. Russia all right. Maybe workmans got chance there.’